


all that once had been

by cngkyns



Category: Monsta X (Band), SISTAR, 우주소녀 | Cosmic Girls | WJSN
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Post-War, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, here's me tryin a new ship and immediately throwing them into a gutter, sorry showho ilyboth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 00:10:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20611691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cngkyns/pseuds/cngkyns
Summary: Eleven years have passed since the War ruined everything they knew, but Hoseok has yet to deal with the bittersweet memories left behind.Or, while searching for coupons to trade for food, Hoseok stumbles across remnants from the past.





	all that once had been

**Author's Note:**

> originally written for the **junkyard planet** square for mx bingo, but life got in the way and i couldn't complete it in time T-T thank you to the kind admin for still allowing me to submit this! also this is my first time writing showho (a relatively new Secret Soft Ship of mine) and i was p excited to write this hehe

  
  


When he picks up an item that has glinted at him twice within five minutes, small yet eye-catching in the midst of all this rubble, Hoseok gasps. 

His gloved fingers brush over a fraction of a smashed device with cracks spread along a glass screen, dust from the surrounding rubble wedged into every nook and cranny of the item. Along its sides were buttons, long and short, with a plus and minus sign at opposite ends, and the back of the device displayed two small squares. 

"A phone?" he wonders aloud. 

Alerted by the loud gasp and his unmoving frame, Hyunwoo leaves the broken wooden beams he had been investigating and approaches Hoseok from behind, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Hoseok?" he asks, peering over his boyfriend's broad back. "What's wrong?" 

Hoseok looks over his shoulder, eyes still round and mouth still in an open ' _ o _ ' in a mix of confusion and excitement. It's familiarity found in unfamiliarity, its presence soothing yet ominous in such a displaced environment. After living in strange places and less-than-ideal situations for the past decade, something as simple as the remnant of a broken mobile phone stirs up too many emotions in him and clogs his train of thought, preventing him from answering his boyfriend. Hyunwoo frowns and glances at the item in his hand. 

"Oh. What's that?" Picking it up gently with his own gloves, Hyunwoo raises the ruined device up to his face to inspect it. "This looks familiar. Where did you find it?" 

"Over here." Able to form words at last, Hoseok gestures at the nearby pile of rubble where he'd found it. "It was under all of that. I think...I think that's a phone. Right?" 

"A phone? Looks like it. We haven't had one in ages, though, so I'm not sure." 

"Me too." A mix of awe and joy and mellow nostalgia swirls in Hoseok's chest. "I can't believe they're still around. I thought they would've been destroyed a long time ago." An unsaid  _ like everything else from the past _ trails after his words. 

The elder hums, returns the found item into his boyfriend's hand. "That's interesting. Who knew we would find one here?" 

"Yeah." Returning the device fragment to where he'd found it, Hoseok stands up and walks to another side of the abandoned ruins, searching for a different glimmer, but the phone continues to lurk in his mind. They had ran out of food vouchers two days ago and restocking day was four days away: without food vouchers or coins or exchangeable goods they could trade for meals, Hyunwoo and Hoseok could die on the streets of starvation, much like a third of the war survivors around the world. Through scavenging in abandoned places and making off with wild fruits, raw vegetables or meat roasted on a makeshift spitfire, they managed to fend off their hunger since the week started, but they were now in dire need of new food.

With a sigh, Hoseok squats by a broken beam and lifts it easily, placing it over the dusty ground behind it, and pushes away dirt gathered in front of him. To his luck, he finds a small, non-gray item on the ground — could it be of use?—  and picks it up.

In his hand is a worn and torn food voucher for lunch, age discoloring the bright red background to a faded brown, the once-shiny paper now dull with dust, and its printed text almost unreadable. Squinting at the paper, he makes out the expiry date printed across the bottom:  _ FOR USE BY 2031-08-17 _ . Four years after the War began and Earth, along with the rest of the planets in their galactic neighborhood, began to collapse — when his former life began to disappear and his new life, harsh and lonely in comparison, took shape . 

Something lurches in Hoseok's throat. 2031. When his friends' deaths were announced months after they were declared missing, when his own parents' deaths reached the second anniversary, and when Hyunwoo fell sick to an unknown fever that could have costed his life. It had been a difficult year, he recalls; possibly the most difficult one out of all the recent years they've experienced. He clenches the ticket in his fingers, willing the sad memories to go away before it washes him down. 

  
  
  


_ After all, it had only been eleven years ago. _

When Hoseok could run freely around his modest backyard, play ball with his mutant Saint Bernard, grill fresh meat and vegetables with his neighbours, and flirt with Hyunwoo at the back of their classes while the teachers drone away. The sky was still fresh with its baby blue hue, plants of all origins and purposes scenting the air with their lovely smells, and Earthen autumn was settling into their bones day by day. Changkyun and Hyungwon, the humanoid alien stepbrothers living opposite Hoseok's house, would drop by every weekend with a new game, new comic book, or new movie to talk about while their parents traded recipes and travel destinations and trendy investments. Their city thrived during autumn because their rich, orange-brown-gold colours attracted tourists from other countries, planets, and even planetary systems, filling their small corner of their city with tourists of all races, shapes and age. 

Though ominpresent in radio broadcasts and TV channels, no one took note of the persistent warnings of political tensions rising in their galactic neighborhood. Grim headlines went through deaf ears and blind eyes. Military personnel increased in every nook and cranny of the city, but they were chalked up to upgraded security as a result of its higher popularity as a tourist destination. One by one, more restrictions between each planet arose but fell to ignorant heads. Interplanetary travel became closed off. Extra-terrestrials identifying as non-Earth beings, even if they were of Earthen descent, dwindled down in number. Foreign trade faced more sanctions. Politicians flew back and forth between planets as they attempt to settle whatever ordeal they have.

And then the war began. 

It was quiet at first. Despite the political hype being echoed in media everywhere, civilians were kept away from the first few battles that happened in space. Military relatives and friends all bid goodbye to their loved ones without hinting their whereabouts, mouthing silent prayers that they could return home. Transportation workers were shifted into building war-purposed vehicles and spaceships and roads. On clear, cloudless nights where the sky was clear of man-made lights, mini light bursts, much like infinitesimal fireworks, appeared above. Rather than taking the worry off the people's minds, it only caused more stress at having to face the unknown...yet no one batted an eye. 

Only when the first bomb was dropped in a far side of their country and wiped out two towns, followed by similar reports around the Earth, were the inhabitants aware of what was going on. One by one, the first batch of badges belonging to soldiers killed in action began to arrive for humans and non-humans alike. 

(After all, death doesn't discriminate.) 

They lost their homes first. Overrun by soldiers, by fights, by bullets and bombs and drone-powered attacks that evicted them out of their residences, burnt the walls that they grew up in. Fires consumed their physical memories, food gone bad and thrown to the dogs. It was painful to watch the construction that housed five years' worth of Hoseok's memories be destroyed, but nothing prepared him for the next. 

Because his parents came after. It took two years for the war to take them away, but nothing prepared him for the brutal loss of the two figures whom he loved to the ends of this world. They'd been running for safety under an unexpected shower of bullets and air-dropped bombs, urging Hoseok and his brother to jump into the shelter five feet away, but said shelter exploded into splinters and his parents were gone. 

His friends, too, fell victim to the throes of bloodshed. Names he'd once went to school with, went on dates with, fought with, and met once in a while in his neighborhood appeared on more and more graves, leaving few blurry memories behind. Photos faded away under the harsh lights of explosions and unfiltered sunlight. The liveliness of their city dropped every day, people scurrying to its dark nooks and crannies, sounds muffled behind shaking palms as they hide for their lives, run from the grenades thrown and gas blown and bullets grazing their skin.

Time passed quickly after that. 

  
  
  


Lurching out of his thoughts at the crunch of a footstep interrupting what silence they had, Hoseok wipes away a tear he hadn't felt before. Somewhere in the midst of his reminiscing, his eyes had grown puffy and his chest constricted with quiet sobs, not going unnoticed by Hyunwoo standing a few feet away from him. 

"Hey, Hoseok," says the elder, looking at him in concern. "Are you okay? Do you want to rest somewhere?" 

"No." A stuttering breath. A slow inhale. "No, I'm fine. I'm just...reminiscing. About stuff." Then Hoseok thrusts the food voucher towards his boyfriend and forces a small smile. "Look. We could've used this if it didn't expire seven years ago." 

Hyunwoo, albeit still worried for his boyfriend, lets out a soft chuckle and chooses not to pry into his tears. If Hoseok didn't want to talk about it, then neither should he, so he settles it with a, "Well, we should keep searching." 

  
  
  


_ Forest berry pies, chicken curry, and kimbap made with fresh, local seaweed exported to all corners of the world _ _ .  _

Trinkling water in the brook beside them as they pop fresh berries into their mouths, lively chatters backed by birdsong and rustling leaves and feet crunching on the grass carpeting the forest ground. A ragtag group of to-be university students sitting on picnic mats in a clearing, of Hoseok and Hyunwoo and Changkyun and Hyungwon and Soyou and Hyolyn and Dayoung sharing their food over school memories, lost in the bliss of taste and laughter and sunlight dancing through the canopy of the forest. Their shoes are lined up against two sides of the picnic mats, a little scattered despite their efforts to line them neatly, and their used plastic plates are stacked next to the original owners so they can return home to be cleaned. 

Changkyun's phone blares, interrupting Hyolyn's dramatic reenactment of a fight she'd had with a classmate. The group flinches, words dropped and chewing paused at the sudden ringtone. The owner of the phone rushes to take it out. 

"Sorry," says the humanoid with a sheepish wince, muting it at once. "Forgot to turn off the ringtone." 

While the rest of the group snicker, Hyolyn gives him a cheeky eye-roll and says, "What a way to respect your elder. Rude boy." 

"I didn't mean to —" starts Changkyun in a protest, but his mouth shuts as he reads the text on the screen. Whatever mirth he had on his face drained. 

Hyungwon, his older brother, sends him a concerned glance. Leaning over his brother's shoulder to peek at the phone, he asks, "What's up?" 

"No, nothing," Changkyun answers, pocketing his phone quickly. "Just, uh, mom warning us about the military personnel. If they ask, say we're local students and all..." Averting his gaze from his brother's, he smiles (though it's not quite right) to his friends and urges Hyolyn to continue her story. "So, what you were saying?" 

A short pause. A slight uneasy feeling settles into their bones. Everyone understands in their shared glances and lull in conversation: their parents, teachers, and neighbors have warned against staying outside for too long for fear of being apprehended by the military, being suspected of non-Earth origins and detained to the police. At this point in time, even those claiming to be Earthen would be taken for thorough questioning that none of them are prepared for. 

Noticing Dayoung's crestfallen face and Changkyun's fidgeting, Soyou declares with a smile, "We should go home soon. It's already a little past afternoon and I need to help my mom around the house. We don't want our parents to worry too much, right? And you promised your brother to help him with your homework," she adds, nudging Dayoung's shoulder. 

The youngest girl nods. "Oh, that's right. I was hoping I could skip out on that..."

They laugh. Hyolyn chides her in a gentle tone, "Don't be like that. He needs to pass his classes too." 

Accompanied by the tinkling brook, the final sips of Hyunwoo's mother's red syrup, and the last munches of their pies, their food is packed away and cutlery stacked in their baskets. Farewells bid, individual paths taken, and they separated for the last time in the tranquility that the forest provided. 

Not even a year later, Soyou was shot. 

She'd been walking home from the grocery store, the authorities told her parents, when gunfire broke out and she stood, unfortunate, in the middle of it all. Being a face popular with many, known for her kind heart but sharp tongue, a string of admirers hanging by her beauty, her death was grieved over for weeks on end. Hoseok left flowers picked from her beloved garden every three days by her grave. 

Dayoung had been declared missing, as with the rest of her family, not long after. Sugarcoated for  _ killed _ , most of their friends speculated, except their bodies hadn't been found— they shudder to wonder why. For her, Hoseok left a bunch of hydrangeas whenever possible on her grave in honor of her role as the little sister he'd always wanted, as well as the platonic affection she held towards him.

The humanoid brothers, Changkyun and Hyungwon, escaped to the ends of the world, traces of any living clean from their trail as if no one had filled their space before. Hyolyn and her family, too, disappeared into what everyone wants to think of as safety, leaving nothing but a  _ don't worry _ scribbled hastily on a notepad left on their coffee table. All three promised to exchange contacts with Hoseok and Hyunwoo when they've found shelter, but eleven years passed by in a haunting, lonely silence. 

The world shifted to a different place entirely. Places deformed, lives taken, and time shifted to an unstable dimension. What was once thought of as permanent was lost— gone in a blink of an eye.

Happiness doesn't last forever, Hoseok learns. 

  
  


But then he blinks and the temporary bliss, as well as the pain buried deep in his heart unearthed from his memories, shatter that instant.

While he was lost in his thoughts, he'd worked on autopilot until he caught a silver glimmer in the midst of dull grey, round and dusty (like most other things) in the rubble with  _ 10 cents _ emblazoned on one side. He glances at it in the safety of his hand. At the three five-cents in Hyunwoo's palm while the elder gathers more and more, eyes sharp and focused on looking for money so they could buy food for the next few days. It's enough to buy them a shared meal to last for an entire day, a feat they should celebrate after intermittent fasting for the past forty-eight hours, but it isn't in him to think happy things right now. Hoseok's shoulders deflate, a fresh wave of tears coming to his eyes that he can't help, exhaustion of surviving for the past two years post-war seeping into the depths of his bones. 

Those had been long, hard years. 

Slipping the ten-cent into Hyunwoo's palm and walking away, Hoseok wipes across his forehead and sits down on the wooden beam he'd pushed away earlier, not in the mood for money-hunting anymore. What bright afternoon sunlight they had now only highlights the ruins of the city instead of being a symbol of clear skies and great weather that comes few and far between. Someone's bicycle bell ringing down the street gave reason for him to miss the past, not thank the future for being able to rebuild the world again. His boyfriend working hard to look for money served as a reminder of their hardship, their sole purpose to survive, instead of appraisal for their ability to escape the war only two years back. 

Though he's crouching by shattered beams six feet away, Hyunwoo doesn't have to see his boyfriend to ask, "Do you want to talk about it?" 

"Hm?" 

"You don't seem to be okay." 

A shuddering breath. "No, I'm fine, don't worry about it. I guess reminiscing about the past took its toll on me."

"We can talk about it if you want."

And Hoseok does; he wants to remove this excessive burden on his shoulders so he can feel light again, celebrate in the small joys of life as he had been for the past two years, but getting it out of his system takes too much energy from him. "Not right now, I think. Maybe later. I'll be taking a break." 

"If you say so," hums Hyunwoo, easygoing as ever. "Ah, here's another ten cents. Very nice." 

  
  
  


_ "What do you want to do in the future?" _ _ _

The innocent question breaks the contemplative silence hanging over the boys in the comforts of Hoseok's room. Thrifted fairy lights and a single large, worn plushie gather in the right corner next to the open window, where a potted plant sat on the sill and shivered in the chilly breeze. Hyunwoo was wrapped in Hoseok's favourite fleece blanket, legs crossed and back against the wall, while his to-be boyfriend laid lengthwise in front of him, taking up the rest of the space on the bed. Two cups of lukewarm chocolate were placed on the bedside table next to a minimalistic study lamp.

Hyunwoo hums, looks over his friend. "I'm not really sure," he answers. "All I know is I want to do something I enjoy."

"Me too," says Hoseok, scrolling through his social media feed on his phone. "But I have trouble choosing what to do because I enjoy too many things. I think I'd like a small, peaceful job, though." 

"Like what?" 

A shrug. "A florist. A daycare teacher. A barista or a pastry chef. Maybe a dog walker on the side." 

"Ah." Hyunwoo nods. "They sound fun." 

"Don't they?" His friend's face brightens up at the validation. "Glad someone else thinks the same. You know, I'm not into doing big things like law or engineering or medicine, or owning a multi-millionaire company the way my brother does. It's too much. I'd rather look for success in happiness and help others in ways that touch them here." Hoseok places a hand on his heart. "You can't do that if you have bigger goals, right? Because in the end, you're only saving yourself and not anyone else." 

Lost in the long-winded answer, Hyunwoo can only nod in reply. 

"The world may run on money, but happiness is the true essence that we live for. Why chase something if it doesn't bring joy?" 

"Mmm." Though he maintains his cool, calm expression, Hyunwoo is secretly wowed by Hoseok's little philosophies and wonders what goes through his friend's head for him to think of that. He's never thought much of the future himself: his parents were carefree and cheerful souls, ready to support whatever endeavour Hyunwoo was in, and he never sought to push through the mist that covers the future ahead of him. Rather, Hyunwoo would prefer to walk down the time of path and take whatever was thrown to him in stride, not wanting to stress about anything in life. Though neither of them dreamt big, Hoseok's set of life principles drew the difference between them and caused Hyunwoo to ponder.

So he thinks,  _ Well, if happiness is what we live for, then all I need in life is Hoseok. _

And Hoseok, as he glances at his best friend with his cheeks bunched up into a beaming smile, thinks the same. 

Yet here they are, standing amidst rubble and broken beams and the skeletons of the manmade buildings once dominating this planet. The skies, though much better than the dark grays that had blanketed them for years after the war, held fragments of the harmony that existed between living societies across their galactic neighborhood. Far from the happiness Hoseok sought for in his youth, his memories were coloured gray and red with deaths and the eventual ruin of everything and everyone he knew. Instead of his Literature degree, he earned the title of a war survivor. Instead of graduating alongside Soyoung, whom he grew up with, he honours her death every year. Instead of returning home to his parents every few months, he visits their graves near his family home on their death anniversaries. Even now, the ghosts of the humans and non-humans that inhabited this world could only speak to them in whispers, doing nothing to bring the luxurious past back to them. 

"Hoseok? You're crying again." 

A heavy arm weighs down his back, followed by Hyunwoo's scent and his worried expression appearing next to his face. Sweat and dust covers his cheeks and forehead, along with dirt and oil from God-knows-where, while his hair sticks up as a result of the humid air around them. 

"No, I'm...ugh." Hoseok struggles to take a breath, tears flowing freely down his face now, sobs more prominent yet muffled than before. "I was remembering happy things from back then. Everything was so easy for us, right? Nothing was supposed to come in our way. Seeing what has become of us now made me...sad." 

"I see." A step closer and Hyunwoo's chest is pressed against his side. "Would you like to talk about it? You've been quiet for a while now." 

Hoseok wipes a hand across his eyes, the tears and dust coming off his face. "I...I miss our home. I miss our family. I miss the past, Hyunwoo. I want to go back." 

"Go back? To where?" 

"Before that." He gestures to the rubble around them, the dust floating in the air and the crunchy footsteps of a group of survivors walking past their building. "Before all of this happened. When we could still reach for our dreams. When our family and friends were alive. When...when it was all okay, you know?" 

If there's one thing Hoseok loves about his boyfriend, it's that Hyunwoo never breaks in dire situations— at least visibly. He's headstrong and calm, rational even at the worst moments, steady and determined to make it out of whatever situation they found themselves in no matter how good or bad it was. He was never one to dip his toes into the past, but kept his eyes ahead at all times to prepare for the next ordeal.

So, it's only expected when Hyunwoo says, "I know," voice dropping into quiet tones low enough for only his boyfriend to hear. "I think we all want to go back to those days. It's just that...time flows in one direction and we can't travel backwards, so we live now as best as we can. Maybe we're not where we want to be, but we're where we need to be at the moment. Right?" 

Hoseok doesn't bother to answer, instead leaning forward to place his head against Hyunwoo's broad, sturdy, and ever-reliable shoulder. There, in the crook of his neck, is Hoseok's safe space: his boyfriend's musky scent, the steady pound of his heartbeat and his soft, warm skin that never fails to calm him down after a cry or a bad episode. It's a reminder of the gentleness and harmony that still exists in the post-war world, even if it comes in the form of a human named Son Hyunwoo. It's a reminder of the past and their blissful memories left behind in a world shattered by intergalactic politics and deaths that spread across the Milky Way. It's a reminder that the world continues to spin regardless of what happened and what will happen, and so, Hoseok must do the same. 

Wrapping a familiar arm around Hoseok's waist, Hyunwoo doesn't comment and lets the silence comfort them.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed <3 hmu on [twt](https://twitter.com/raingami) or [cc](https://curiouscat.me/raingami)!


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